Artist of the Floating World
by MistressKaia
Summary: Dark secrets always lay covered up by beautiful makeup and charming dances.This couldn't be more true in the tea house Sasori is drug into.When its Deidara's turn to dance,though, Sasori finds this socalledart calls to him mockingly to no end. SasoDei AU
1. The Begining

AN: I felt like I needed to write more SasoDei. Eh, this was originally going to be a doujinshi but in the middle of the damn thing my art style changed rather A LOT so I just kind of gave up on that idea, thus turning it into a fan fiction. 

WARNING!!! This story won't be accurate to Geisha at all, so if you're offended by my little made up rules then please don't read this fiction. Just the same, if you're offended by YAOI or minor INCEST then its best to turn back now.

On with the show!!!

"Kisame…tell me again why you're dragging me here." Sasori muttered as he walked along side the taller male through the busy city streets. The red head was fairly short, perhaps five feet four inches or so, with extremely young features; one would never guess he was almost thirty by looking at him.

"Because you need to relax, you're always so uptight and you rarely leave that damn studio of yours!" The blue haired man argued, turning his nearly ivory eyes downwards upon the smaller one; he was unique himself in that he resembled a shark with those light eyes and dark pupils, black tattoos mirroring gills adorning his cheek bone just under and to the side of each eye. Sasori had his own fair share of tattoos though, simple ones that encircled each joint, giving him the look of a puppet; just more inspiration for his art, after all, ink does last.

Deep chocolate eyes simply gave a glare towards the other male as he spoke, making contact.

"Unlike you, I have a well paying job with dead lines I need to meet."

"You could still stand to relax you know." Kisame stated casually.

Carefully Sasori slipped past someone on the street, looking around he couldn't help but cringe inwardly at the run down neighbor hood they were in.

"I don't have to argue about this with you. I only came with you today because you said we'd be going to a place of art."

Kisame shrugged lightly, flashing that pointy grin of his.

"We are. Its just a little bit of a walk, now relax! We're almost there! Oh…and if this homeless guy outside the place asks you for money, just ignore him, he's there every day."

Muttering something along the lines of, "Well that's reassuring," Sasori followed on without much conversation. He was making a note in his head to find better friends to hang out with in the future.

Just short of an extra half hour of walking, Kisame finally announced cheerfully that they had arrived.

Outside, the building looked small, squeezed between two larger sky scrapers within the slums of the city. If you blinked, you could walk right past it and never notice its presence.

A simple wooden structure that looked…shady to say the least. Traditional Japanese doors and windows, structured to look like a teahouse. It went without saying that Sasori had his doubts already.

"This place is a fire hazard." 

"Lighten up, Sasori! The inside is much nicer!" Kisame scolded, ushering him inside with the damned pointed grin.

Kisame was right, the inside was nicer, however the women and men diminished the beauty of the inner structure by strutting around like prostitutes, in Sasori's humble opinion.

Traditional music filled the air with life, people hustling and bustling around with the dull roar of talking and laughter echoing along side the soothing notes.

Several of the women had their kimono's hanging from their shoulders, entertaining men and women alike at their respective booths; faces white and painted to look like dolls. No amount of make up can hide a whore though, once more in Sasori's humble opinion.

Their greeter/waitress only enforced this theory more. She had bright blonde hair with painted red lips and a pale blue diamond upon her forehead. The kimono she wore was a pale green with shades of tan underneath, however she seemed to make a focal point out of her shockingly large bust size by letting the kimono rest at her upper arms. One couldn't help but wonder if some tape was involved in keeping the garment on.

"Konbanwa, a table for two?" She said with a bow, chestnut eyes drifting upwards to look upon the two.

Kisame gave a stupid grin and nodded, inwardly Sasori was scowling and glaring with all his might at his shark like friend.

The woman gave a slight nod in response, "Good timing, we have one table left. My name is Tsunade and if you have any problems with the service I'll be the one you may come to. Now then, please, this way."

The woman now dubbed Tsunade lead the two off to the right of the door way and to the back, a large stage like clearing adorning itself between the tables.

"Your entertainers will be out in a few moments, till then please make yourself comfortable." She said with a soft smile before turning away. Her act fell leaving a scowl in its place muttering to herself. "I hate this job, if I didn't have that stupid debt to the owner I swear to god…damn gambling, damn bet…" The grumbling continued until she got to her post, bringing the act back up.

Kisame got down on the floor and seated himself on the mat, leaning against the table and looking towards Sasori.

"C'mon man! Loosen up! You're surrounded by beauties; what's there to be tense about?"

Sasori merely glared in response, reluctantly sitting down.

"Oh I get it, you're nervous." Kisame joked, looking around his surroundings, silently picking and choosing.

"You said we were going to a place of _art_. This just seems like a common whore-house to me." Sasori had his a typical look of boredom upon his face, mixed with some sort of fatigue and irritation.

Whipping around, the other male looked almost offended.  
"It's not a whorehouse!!! It's a teahouse! A place for geishas! You know, walking art! A milestone for Japanese culture! I thought you of all people would know!"

Sasori openly sneered at the other, "Shut it. I _know _this isn't art. Art is something wonderful that's left long into the future, eternal beauty. Not a bunch of whores in silk and paint. Honestly even a dip shit like you can grasp that."

"Ok, ok!" Kisame sighed, crossing his arms.

After sitting still for a moment longer, Sasori decided it was far past time to leave before he would be forced to stay by a stupid thing called a bill.

"Can we leave now? I have no interest in listening to some woman prattling on abo--…"   
Stopping in mid sentence he looked at the two who were approaching their booth, silent and blank.

"What? Why'd you stop?" Kisame followed his line of sight before his trademark grin appeared upon his face. "Oh…Wow Sasori check out the blonde! The dark haired one's hot too! Lucky!"

The two stopped and bowed in unison, the blonde straightening first and giving a delicate smile. Though most would be fooled, the two were diffidently male, due to their body structure and the way they naturally carried themselves, an easy spot as far as Sasori was concerned.

"Welcome. We'll be your entertainers this evening. My name is Deidara, and this is my shamisen player, Itachi. Hm." The blonde spoke in a gentle manner, his voice not too deep but not too light either. 

His hair covered his left eye, while the rest was swept up into a delicate bun with several different hair combs and hair sticks. His most prominent hair accessory was adorned with a light purple butterfly with wings that spread out wide, sakura blossoms hanging from strings connected to the wings. The silk kimono was a soft azure that faded to black as it went down, patterns of birds showing themselves in golden silk through out the fabric with a matching black and purple obi that swept down to the floor. The outfit absolutely screamed feminine charm; the traditional geisha makeup didn't help that notion.

Itachi was a different story. He was dressed in the typical male kimono, a plain black garment with red trim, coma patterns resting atop the red trimmings. It flowed simply, tied at the middle, plain and simple. Raven hair was placed in a lone bun atop his head, two hair sticks, one on each side with the same comma shapes hanging from one of the sticks. His face was very stoic, wrinkles stretching down his cheeks from blow the tear ducts of his eyes, something one would expect to see on someone extremely tired, with delicate features that were framed in a curtain of black bangs.

The contrast was stark, almost frightening, but one would assume that Deidara and Itachi were thinking the same towards Sasori and Kisame.

Itachi moved to take his place off to the side while Deidara stood before the two, waiting for some sort of response.

Kisame spoke up first, "Yo! Name's Kisame, the star struck one here is Sasori." At that last statement, Kisame could practically taste the hate that Sasori was emitting off his eyes towards the back of Kisame's head. 

Deidara gave a soft chuckle, flashing the two a smile before Itachi spoke up.  
"Deidara, lets begin…"

"Yes, yes, I'm ready." The golden haired man replied, taking his place with fans in hand.

As soon as Itachi began to play the intro to a soft song, silence washed over the teahouse, all eyes on Deidara.

"You'll want to watch this, he's one of our best entertainers." A raven-haired waiter said to the group he was serving. Though the blonde in the group looked pleased, his entertainer, a redhead with heavy black eyeliner; looked extremely displeased with the sudden change in interest.  
Deidara's movements at first were simple, a few sways to the side, opening the fan and moving them with himself. However, as the song begin to climb higher and grow more intense, his movements became more intricate. His foot movements were precisely placed as his fans twirled with great ease.

The scene was…frighteningly elegant.

His fans flashed from white to red as he showed the front, then the back. Suddenly they were spinning, being tossed in the air as the performer twirled and caught them both behind his back and in front with the greatest of ease.

The crowd was hypnotized by the show, the subtle quickness of hands and turning of his body, with the enchanting strings adding to the hypnotic illusion. They were so distracted that they didn't see the explosive balls that Deidara had pulled from his sleeves.

Twirling, twirling, twirling, it looked like he'd drop the fans at any moment, or perhaps trip on his own feet and fall. It captivated and held the audience's breath. The few minute act felt like an eternity as they gazed on, entranced and enticed to this grace.

Sasori wasn't fooled. 

Perhaps it was his field of art that made him know so much about the human form, and how they moved. Either way, he wasn't impressed.

As the music began to slow, easing down to the ending, the balls were balanced on each fan then tossed once more into the air, the fans twirling upon his fingers as he gave a coy smile, holding up two fingers.

"Katsu…"

The word left his lips softly as the two balls exploded in mid air on either side of him, sending confetti into the air with sparks falling around him.

The crowd clapped in admiration of the man as Deidara took an elegant bow, the faint scent of gunpowder drifting though the air.

"That was amazing! Don't you think so, Gaara?" The blonde teen with three stripes on each cheek announced, grinning from ear to ear.

The red head entertainer simply turned his gaze down, pouring his guest more tea. "It was a decent performance…" And that was the best you could get out of Gaara when it came to Deidara.

Their waiter merely smirked to himself, taking his empty tray and standing.  
"Elegant as always, his dance is always better when Itachi's playing." With that the raven-haired waiter simply walked back to the kitchen, catching eye contact with Itachi for a moment before disappearing behind the cloth curtain; a silent exchange of messages.

Immediately when Deidara sat down, Kisame began showering him with compliments on his performance; those didn't lessen when Itachi joined the table, but merely grew as Kisame then turned to the other and doted upon him as well. 

Sasori just sat silent, with that listless expression upon his face.

This didn't go unnoticed by Deidara.

"Did you enjoy my performance…Sasori, was it? Un?"

The artist merely glanced at the blonde. "It was predictable. Dull."

Silence.

Deidara sat there for a moment, before he was fully expecting to be praised and worshiped for his art form, so who was this guy to come in and say it was dull!?

"E-Excuse, me?"

Sasori sighed, how he hated these prissy types.

"I don't like to repeat myself." 

The hairs on the back of Deidara's neck were starting to stand, anger tugging at his emotions with a great force, but he only let it show in the way of a twisted smile.

"Perhaps if I explained my art form you'd appreciate it a bit more."

"I'm not interested in listening to you prattle." Sasori replied bluntly.

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.

The waiter who'd slipped into the back returned to their table, setting the tray down with a tea kettle, several glasses, an a plate with dumplings on a skewer.

"Here's your tea and dango, complimentary of the house." The raven hair waiter straightened and bowed his head slightly.

"Thank you, Sasuke." Itachi said as he poured the tea, dismissing the teen.

While Itachi had hopped this would distract Deidara from their perturbed customer, it only made Deidara try harder. The shamisen player got the feeling there would be some tension just by watching the red head's face while Deidara performed. So naturally, his method of keeping the blonde under control was to flag down Sasuke, his brother and waiter on shift, with his eyes. It had worked in the past but clearly Deidara wouldn't listen to the subtle hint to stop today.

The golden haired dancer took hold of one of the cups and placed it before Sasori, making a special note to lean close over his shoulder and catch eye contact, a certain determination lurking in his gaze.

Sasori narrowed his eyes at Deidara, one for making eye contact with that look, and two for invading his personal space.

The blonde made a point to sit across from Sasori, unshaken in his point to make eye contact.

The evening went on rather slowly, Kisame and Itachi trading words in idle conversation that proved to be enlightening for both. Though the conversation at points was one sided, Itachi would usually talk more with Kisame then he would with most customers. Kisame was a regular customer here, but he'd never been placed at Itachi's booth.

It seemed an awkward friendship of sorts was starting to grow.

The opposite could be said for Sasori and Deidara.

The two had spoken a little, but it was mostly Deidara saying something, with Sasori insulting him in turn. Thus, Deidara would grow irritated and just glare at him.

Sasori couldn't remember a time when he'd been more irritated with one person, save for the time that he lived with his grandmother. 

"Why do you keep on trying to pursue pointless conversation with me, brat?"

Deidara snorted slightly and poured Sasori more tea. "Because you piss me off with that damn impassive face. I figure maybe if I piss you off enough I'll get some sort of reaction."

"Deidara." Itachi warned.

Sasori simply remained, as Deidara refered to, impassive.

Pursing his lips together, Deidara sat for a moment before speaking again.  
"You come in here, with that all knowing look on your face, disrespect my art by brushing it off, and you won't even carry on an intelligent conversation. Tell me, who the hell do you think you are, hm?"

Sasori raised a bored eyebrow.  
"Who are you to ask. If you think waving fans around is art, you're sorely mistaken."

Deidara leaned up on the table, fists clenched on top of the table.

"You obviously don't know the definition of art then do you? Art is the beauty of a single fleeting moment. One that can be seen for a few moments then disappears in a flash with a bang. To put it simply, art is a blast and there's no room for anything else. Pop is dead." 

Unconsciously, Deidara had lent over extremely close to Sasori, their noses practically touching, a grave mistake upon the blonde's part.

The next thing Deidara knew, he was confronted with one of the skewers from the dango being pointed at his left eye, a hand gripping his chin.

"You wanted to piss me off, little shit. You got what you wanted. Don't spout such idiocy without being prepared for the consequences."

Deidara sat still as death, starring at the dot that was the sharp point of the skewer, unafraid but still wary.

"Sasori, let him go." Kisame urged, looking towards the security off to the side. 

However, before Sasori could pull away, Deidara decided to pour hot tea into the lap of the redhead.

Hissing Sasori let go of the blonde who stormed off through the curtain which waiters, waitresses, and entertainers came and went. 

"You little shit!" Sasori yelled as he dabbed at his burnt thigh. Kisame handed him a cloth while Itachi rubbed the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed. He knew his partner was rash but this was going way over the limit.

As soon as the tea had cooled enough that it didn't hurt, Sasori was up on his feet and following after Deidara with rage. He was going to confront the damned blonde and teach him a lesson, provided the whelp survived it. 

"I wouldn't advise that." Itachi said as Sasori passed, but Sasori paid no heed. Sighing he turned to Kisame who just gave a sheepish smile.

"Once he's got his mind set on something there's no stopping him."

Itachi simply shook his head and picked up the discarded glass. "Well let's hope he gets back before the monitor comes."

- - - - - - - - - -

The only problem that faced Sasori now was that he didn't know which room Deidara was in. Quietly he stalked down the hallway and opened them partly to see inside. The second to last door he found his prize.

Deidara was in the process of getting undressed when Sasori stalked in silently, standing behind him.

The blonde sat before a vanity, having gotten his face makeup off, hair down, and was simply in the process of brushing his hair. Fingers dropped the brush after being startled by glancing up in the mirror and seeing the figure behind him.

"What the hell are you doing in my room, hm?!" Deidara called out, whipping around and leaning against his vanity.

"What do you think?" It was obvious that Sasori had some sort of plan to do bodily harm to the blonde, but something caught his eye before he could get to it.

Upon a shelf off to the side of the vanity sat several sculptures, and above that were several prints. Hanging from the corner of the shelf was something that would be very familiar to Sasori; a puppet he'd designed and show cased at a gallery for auction.

"Where'd you get that?" Sasori asked, picking up the puppet. It was an abstract piece he'd done just a few years ago at a gallery where he'd first gotten his name amongst the higher anarchy of artists in the city.

Deidara glared, apprehensive about the sudden change of pace that the redhead had taken.  
"Why should I tell you?"

Sasori glared at him slightly, looking the puppet over once more.  
"Because I made this piece. I'm surprised someone like you has it."

Dumbstruck Deidara sat silently for a period.  
"You…made that?"

"Yes, its one of my old toys…I'm surprised you have it."

Deidara straightened himself and looked at the puppet.  
"It was a gift…I'm fond of it though. I've sculpted some things with that as a reference, un."

Sasori hm'd at the statement and put the puppet up. "I'd like to see the sculptures." Something in the back of his mind told him they would be mediocre, and worthless. However, his curiosity got the better of him.

Deidara, skeptical of Sasori's intent turned and picked up one of the sculptures from the shelf and held it out for the redhead to look at. 

As expected it was…not mediocre. It was abstract and a sculpture all its own, however you could still see similarities but nothing too extreme.

Sasori gave a hum of indifference as he turned away.

Deidara, for whatever reason, felt the need to speak once more.  
"I have a respect for your art you know….you should develop a respect for mine."

Sasori narrowed his eyes at the other. "I'll do as I please."

Deidara turned his back on Sasori, picking up his brush and running it through his waist length hair once more.  
"You know when you're not being an ass, you're cute."

Wait…what?

Deidara processed his aloud thought process and wanted to shoot himself. That last part came out all wrong.

"You've got guts to be hitting on me after the shit you've pulled, brat." Sasori was unimpressed. His thought process was on an entirely different level at the moment. There was no attraction on his side at all; just curiosity, plain and simple curiosity.

This man pissed him off to no end, then again, he also intrigued him to no end as well. Why would he be so set to piss him off and watch reactions? Why would he, of all people, use his piece as a basis for his sculpting? It just didn't make sense and Sasori wished to figure it out.

Deidara chose not to respond as he finished up combing his hair, it wasn't till the clock caught his eye that he panicked.

"Shit! You have to get out of here, un!"

Sasori gave him a look of "why?" before ever moving.

"Just take me word for it and get out!" Rushing over to the doorway he peeked out and grew ever more panicked. 

"Damnit! Listen! I'll do anything! Just get out right now, un! You'll have to go through the back but you can just go around to the front through the alley." Deidara was practically begging Sasori to be cooperative. 

"Only on one condition…" Sasori said monotone.

"Name it." Deidara announced, nervously glancing from the door to the redheaded artist. 

"You meet with me tomorrow, here, at your booth. No performance this time, just one on one."

Deidara eyed Sasori warily, that was a funny request but he'd take it. He couldn't help but wonder what Sasori's motives were though. It just seemed too….out of place for him, and Deidara had only known Sasori for two hours.

"Deal. Just go, un."

Without much else, Sasori slipped out the back door to Deidara's quarters, doing as instructed.

Deidara sighed softly, holding his chest lightly as a knock came to the door.

"Come in."

At that, the door opened, a white haired teen with circular glasses stepping in and looking around.

Deidara narrowed his eyes at the nuisance, watching him.  
"To what do I owe the pleasure of this humble visit, Kabuto?" He asked, sarcasm dripping off of each word.

"Tsunade said you threw hot tea on a customer. Is this true?" Kabuto's eyes scanned the room, looking for any displacement.

Deidara grinned and sat down in front of the vanity once more. "Sure did, un. He was pissing me off. I figured he deserved it."

Kabuto pursed his lips slightly but made no other facial expression. "And he followed you back here?"

"No. You know what that would imply, un."

The white haired man nodded slightly. "You know our policies, and what with the state you're in…if you were caught with a client."

"Shut up, four eyes and just get out. There's no one here, un. The guy's probably sitting out at my table now with Itachi."

Kabuto hummed in response and stepped back to the door way, looking over at Deidara.  
"Cause any more commotion and I'll report you to Lord Orochimaru. I'm sure he'd be happy to take care of you." With that he simply turned and left, shutting the door behind him.

Deidara sneered, he hated his boss something terrible, with that golden snake like leer…it just sent shivers of hate up his spine at the very mention.

This day, wasn't his day. Sure he'd met an attractive redhead whom he found a sick pleasure in pissing off, but he was also a real psycho as far as Deidara was concerned. Sasori was disturbing in his own right as well as an ass but he was still…interesting. The blonde assumed he could give the artist another chance, perhaps this time they'd just gotten off on the wrong foot. Things can change, right?

Sure…and hell will have an air conditioner. 

- - - - - -

"Hey! Didn't rough up Blondie too much, didja?" Kisame asked, sitting at the table sipping tea.

"He'll live…" Sasori replied, remaining in his place, standing. "Can we go now?"

Kisame shrugged and thanked Itachi before standing as well.

The duo moved to the front, paid and left without much thought.

"So much for relaxing, huh?" Kisame looked down at Sasori who had an eerily content feeling about him.

Sasori just responded with a shrug, walking with him back through the busy nighttime streets to the car.

For some stupid reason he couldn't describe, the blonde wouldn't leave his mind. It was starting to piss him off, but then again Deidara had a knack for that, wither he realized he was doing it or not.

How strange that he'd be getting pissed off…yet he was still looking forward to tomorrow.

Looking forward to tomorrow…it'd been the first time in a long time that Sasori was actually looking forward to doing something.

How strange and curious this blonde was.

AN: So yeah... I tried really hard to get everyone in character, you'll have to tell me how I did! I think I did an ok job of it. Sasori I'm a bit wary on but hey, he's a tough person to write what with the mind-set I have. Anyway I hope you liked it. Please, please, PUH-LEASE REVIEW! I really love them. They warm the soul and ease the mind. I'm always worried about my writing style and well…input is lovely. Even if its just a one word-er like "Good" or "Could use some sausage with that orange" I'd be totally happy with it!!! So just take the time and make my day! Click that little button down there to your bottom left! Thank you so much for your time! 


	2. The Meeting

AN: I know you guys hate me for not updating this story but seriously, I'm so sorry. I go through periods where I absolutely detest my stories and writing style. The first few weeks after I posted this story I went through that and almost deleted this story. Fortunately, I got such great reviews I just was floored, I love you guys like whoa for giving me that boost of confidence. Then like with most people, life catches up to you and you get busy with other things, thus losing time to write. Well I'm back guys, your reviews helped me get out of my little self-pity hole, and life has given me some proper time! Thanks to everyone and do keep reviewing, you have no idea how much its helps! On with the show!!!

Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto, and I don't want to own it.

---

Today was no day to be going outside. Sasori knew that, and yet he still was going, umbrella in hand, to his meeting.

The night before had been restless: strong winds beckoned at the windows and doors leading to the outside world, whispering secrets through the limbs of the few trees the city had, whistling high pitched tunes to the buildings that longed to touch the sky itself. Once more the sky opened up, subtle drops at first, then larger ones, reaching out to touch the earth and apply a coat of freshness to the world.

Such a restless night indeed…and the day wasn't much different.

A constant knocking was heard under the artist's umbrella, wind lightly misting his face as the humid, clean scent filled his nose. It was as clean as such a city would ever get, as it usually smelled of smog and pollution.

Streets that had been crowded on his last visit were only sparsely populated with a few die-hard businessmen, as well as a few unlucky tourists. New York was such a bother…

Rolling thunder echoed in the distance, earning a sigh from Sasori. Days like this were usually spent in his studio, painting or carving away as rain was his biggest motivator.

The thought of canceling his meeting had crossed his mind in the morning hours, but was soon tossed away when he couldn't remember the name of the teahouse, leaving him with no way to look up the number. Irritation was to be expected, seeing as the redhead had come to his senses only hours after being home.

He'd let his own curiosity get the better of him, and for that, he wanted to kick himself.

Sasori was used to control and order, not rampant chaos and last minute choices. It just wasn't like him.

But what could he do now?

Hazel eyes narrowed at the street below him, a scowl firmly planted on his face. He was not looking forward to this meeting… at all. The day before was a fluke, a one-time moment of irrationality. Excited? No. Curious? More then that really, but he just wanted to know about this Deidara's art and be finished with the entire thing.

As lost in thought as he was, it took the soaking wet homeless man outside the teahouse, asking for a few dollars to shake him from his dwellings.

Eyes once narrowed now looked lethargically up at the building that seemed a lot more foreboding today then it had the day before.

"Sir, any spare change?" The homeless man asked, pathetic as any human being could get.

Sasori simply turned and raised an eyebrow, not giving him any more then that, as that would be a waste of his time. Quietly he stalked into the building, being greeted in the same fashion as his last visit, only this time by a different worker.

"Konbanwa, how may I help you?" The woman smiled, looking up from her bow.

In the back of his mind he wanted to say, "You can help by speaking English," but he knew better. However, one of his biggest pet peeves was to have random bits of a language thrown in with English, as it only served to butcher the spoken word; an irritation, no doubt, gained in college.

Lethargically he looked at the woman, speaking in a matter-of-fact way, "I have an appointment scheduled with one of your workers."

The brunette greeter righted herself from her bow, walked over to a table, and looked at the time slot.

"Hmm, Sasori, Akasuna? With…" she paused for a moment, tracing the line to the other side of the page with her finger. "…Deidara?"

The redheaded artist gave a slight tilt of the head in a simple nod, following the woman as she ushered him back.

Just short of a door, she stopped and turned around.

"Just a few ground rules before you go in. You have two hours to spend with him, time exceeding that will be added to your bill and you'll be asked to set up another appointment. You are not aloud to touch him without his permission and it cannot be of a sexual nature. If anything is heard, you will have to pay a fee as well as leave the establishment. If you need anything, ask Deidara, he is there to entertain and serve you."

She spoke as if she'd rehearsed it a thousand times over, a stern look upon her face.

Sasori merely arched an eyebrow at the rules, surely they didn't have THAT much trouble with these painted whores? These men and women were simply disgusting…unworthy of his time.

So why was he here again?

Yes, yes; to further see what that blonde could do as an artist and not the kind of "art" that involved dancing.

Growing impatient he waited as she prattled on several more rules before walking to the door and peeking in.

"Deidara-sama, you have a guest."

A hum came from within as the waitress opened the door and bowed, stepping aside so Sasori could enter.

The room reeked of vanilla and was very well lit with an array of lanterns that held candles inside, no doubt the source of that heavy scent.

Deidara stood off to the far right of the room, staring out an open window that only showed the side of the building next to them, and the rain that managed to fall between the two.

The transient artist was dressed far differently today then he was yesterday, in a deep crimson colored kimono that swept down and pooled at least a foot around him on the floor. Multiple lairs were work beneath this kimono with a yellow obi wrapping around his waist diving down his back and pooling at the floor with the rest. He looked like a statue standing tall there before the window, hair half up in a ponytail with several combs adorning it.

To put it simply, he was stunning in every meaning of the word.

Sasori didn't bother to acknowledge it though, why should he? The blonde was frustrating, annoying, and he made Sasori do irrational things. Why would the red head bother to notice the blonde's beauty when he was so preoccupied with other things?

"Have a seat, un. I'll pour some tea."

Sasori didn't protest, but merely slid his shoes off and stepped into the room, the door being closed behind him. Slowly he walked to the table, and then knelt down on the pillow placed beside the table.

Deidara turned from where he stood, walking over to a small counter to pick up a kettle, looking towards Sasori for the first time. His face wasn't painted as elaborately as it had been; today he only bore only some paint on his lips and some around his eyes for an added effect. Sasori couldn't help but be reminded of a cat the way the black lining came to a point on both eyes. In a motion far too elegant to be called a walk, Deidara glided over to the table and sat down, brining the cup forward.

Silence gripped room as Deidara poured the tea, trying to continue to be proper but the silence…that just wasn't his thing.

"So what do ya' want, un?" A blunt, straight to the point statement, screw being proper, this was the guy who barged into his room the other day and almost got him into a world of shit. He didn't deserve proper.

The redhead arched an eyebrow at the other, he'd gone from silent and stand able to using that tone of voice that made his very skin crawl. That cocky tone like nothing in the world could sway him from doing as he pleased, the sort of "holier then thou" attitude. People like that pissed Sasori off, a lot.

Never one to make anyone wait he spoke in his usual tone of boredom, "I want to see more of your sculptures. The one you showed me the other day was nice and I'd like to see more."

Deidara sat for a moment, letting the words sink in for a moment before a grin stretched across his face. This was an expression Sasori hadn't seen of the blonde before, oh no…this expression was almost sinister. He could only describe it as the look of a Cheshire cat, one who knows something that you don't.

"Those pieces weren't art until last night." Deidara replied, pouring a glass of tea for himself while leaning against the table.

Sasori only sat there, irritated. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Of course his expression was one of question, so naturally Deidara continued.

"I destroyed them. There was a grand fire last night outside the establishment and those pieces set of beautiful sparks. You should've been there to see my true art in motion, un."

Now Sasori was pissed.

"And what, per say, is your definition of true art?"

The answer he was given was one that only made him seethe and regret ever having asked the question. Obviously the blonde was even more idiotic then he'd originally thought.

"Art is the fleeting moment of grandeur. A moment, which can only be experienced once, in short, art is a bang, un"

That Cheshire grin only grew as the blonde spoke, making big gestures with his hands and waiting to see Sasori's expression of wonder.

"Are you done?" Sasori stated curtly, a malice laced glare set firmly on his face, it wasn't exactly the wonder that Deidara had been aiming for.

The blonde stared at Sasori for a moment, and then narrowed his gaze towards him.

"You know, for someone who's as attractive as you, you sure are an ass, un."

Deidara always had horrible timing when it came to flirting. Sure he found Sasori attractive, who wouldn't? But if his personality was anything to go on then the two were polar opposites that only existed to piss each other off. Pushing buttons was Deidara's specialty; after all, he lived for other reactions. Sasori seemed like the perfect candidate for that role though, he was easy to annoy and had a temper, though he'd really love to avoid getting stabbed, such things could be worked around with practice and well-placed judgment.

Sasori's mind was screaming now.

" You're hitting on me again."

"Good call, red."

"Red?" Sasori growled, gripping his cup hard enough that his knuckles turned white.

There was the limit, Deidara knew not to push any further with insults, lest he end up pinned and probably in pain this time round, as there was nothing to stop the enraged redhead from doing such.

"Well I'm not going to lie about you being attractive, un. I've always had a thing for redheads." Deidara stated in a matter of fact way, taking a swift swig of his tea. The elegant, proper Deidara had flown out that open window as soon as that silence hit. This was the real Deidara.

Sasori was seething now. How dare the blond think he could get away with insulting him and then hit on him in the same breath. Before Sasori could say anything though, Deidara chimed in.

"So you say you have an art gallery? What's it like, un?"

A reasonable question, but that didn't distract Sasori from his anger; at least it was a different subject then what they'd previously been discussing.

"Stressful." Sasori growled out, bring the cup up and gingerly sipping it, a far cry from Deidara's almost brutish manner of drinking.

"Stressful, wow, that's detailed, un."

Deidara rolled his eyes at the other's answer, sarcasm lacing his response as he lent once more on the table, placing his chin in his palm.

Of course such a reaction only earned a deep-seated glare from Sasori, finding his patient for the other to be dangling on a thin string.

"Don't push your luck, you little shit."

At that, Deidara sighed, looking boredly at Sasori with one visible sapphire eye.

"Look, you're wasting your money getting pissed off, un. Not to mention my time, so you may as well calm down and have a good time." The blond dancer was firm in his words obviously bored with the emotion of anger for the moment.

If there was one thing in this world that Sasori detested (amongst many things) was being told what to do by an idiotic blond dancer with a fucked up view on art…

…even if he did have a point.

Begrudgingly, Sasori spoke.

"The art gallery is stressful, there are a lot of deadlines you have to meet, but you don't have a lot of time in which to meet that deadline. After you have a grand opening on your new works, things slow down for a while, but things do build back up. Right now I'm in between showings, I have to have seventy pieces ready for next month, so far I have forty."

It wasn't like himself to open up, but what else was there to talk about that wouldn't end in them both arguing? The art gallery was a safe subject; it was just his job, nothing there that could become volatile.

"That does sound frustrating, but why so much? It's your gallery. Shouldn't you set your limits?" The blond said, focused intently on Sasori.

"You're naïve aren't you." The redhead said, his gaze meeting the other's own.

"This business is rough, and its best to hire managers to help you work out what to do and when to do it. If you misstep, then the public won't respond positively, and your work won't sell, meaning you lose just that much credibility." Sasori seemed sour about the whole thing as he explained it, clearly showing his distaste for it.

"That blows, un. I don't see why you have to rely on what other's think of your art to get anywhere with it." Deidara stated bluntly, eyebrows furrowed.

The blond lived for art, and only art. It disgusted him to see a fellow artist being limited. While they didn't agree on their art forms, Sasori was still an artist, and that's all that mattered. Art wasn't something that was to be limited, caged. It should be done at will, as little or as much as one pleased. In Deidara's case more rather then less.

For the first time that day, Sasori cracked a small, hardly seen smile that faded as fast as it had formed. Perhaps it was Deidara's bluntness towards the statement, or the knowledge that someone else shared that distaste that invoked such a motion, either way, it happened and Deidara certainly saw it.

"People don't understand art anymore."

"Agreed, un."

While the statement on both parties part was hypocritical to each other, it didn't matter. That statement was something that only true artists would understand and appreciate, no matter what they thought true art was.

They both shared that passion, that fire, and that was all that was needed.

Sasori felt strangely light after that conversation, the words following it being nothing more then idle chitchat. A small spat happened when Deidara got bored of Sasori's relaxation, but that ended simply enough with Sasori calling Deidara by his new pet name of "little shit." The blond only reveled in the name with that oh too familiar grin.

Time had flown by without either noticing it, hearing a knock upon the door.

"Excuse me, but your time is up." Came that feminine waitress's voice from the other side of the door.

"Alright." Sasori replied softly, standing as he watched Deidara move from the table, back to the window, staring blankly out of it.

Furrowing his eyebrows he questioned the blond's movement as he put on his shoes.

"Why are you so fixated on the rain?"

Deidara gave a shrug and looked over his shoulder with a smile, not a grin or a smirk. Not something that laced itself with a condescending undertone; just a simple, calm, smile.

"Its inspiring, un."

Inspiring….

Sasori gave a slight hum then exited the room, watching as he closed the door behind him, Deidara never once turning around to say good-bye or bid him farewell. It was like Sasori had never been there, as it seemed Deidara never moved from that open window, taking in that room which now not only smelled of vanilla, but smelled too of fresh rain.

How utterly blissful and disgusting Sasori's fascination was.

Moving to the front desk, he waved the girl over and spoke.

"Put me down for next week, same day, same time, and same person."

The waitress complied and took Sasori's money for this meeting and the one next week, the redhead taking out his umbrella once more and stepping out into the rain.

Why was he so fascinated? Why was he so completely drawn in by someone who pissed him off so much?

The simple answer for that was as such: Deidara was a fellow artist; he knew what he was talking about even if he was an idiot.

At least that's what Sasori thought.

----------------

AN: So the relationship is beginning to bud… err… sort of. Anyway, sorry it's a bit slow of a chapter, but I promise the next one will be better, and besides to get to the good stuff, you need some slow stuff in between. I'm going to caps lock this next statement for effect. THE NEXT CHAPTER IS ALREADY BEING WRITTEN; YOU WILL HAVE IT IN A WEEK OR TWO. No more long waits. I promise. Please review. Even if you did it last chapter, do it again in this one. It's such a confidence boost and it really helps me get going. Thanks guys, much love.


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